


You Never Catch

by brevitas



Series: I See Dead People [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Medium AU, Modern AU, Paranormal AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:56:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire saves Enjolras and somehow still has a hard time convincing the skeptic that he is a medium. Rosemary asks him to spend the night; Enjolras is less than pleased, especially considering that he does not believe Grantaire can really see the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Never Catch

"Oh, fuck!" He jumped at Enjolras just as realization clicked, knocked him off the bench at the precise second that a sniper rifle from somewhere behind them went off. Grantaire heard the telltale scurry of distant feet and warily sat up, saw a dark shape disappear into the trees.

Enjolras was beneath him on his back, knocked breathless, staring wide-eyed up at Grantaire when he started laughing. "Oh my god," he said, dug another cigarette out and lit it with a shaking hand. "She wanted me to say you're in danger. You're in _danger_? Christ, she should've said tell him to watch out for goddamn snipers."

Enjolras looked at him as he regained his breath, rubbed the back of his head where he'd knocked it against the patio. "When did you speak to my sister?" He asked, slowly, and Grantaire saw by his expression that he'd made the jump. "Rosemary died two weeks ago. You're talking like you just met her."

"I did," Grantaire said with another laugh. He realized belatedly he was still straddling Enjolras when the man flinched and Grantaire could feel goosebumps rocket all the way up his spine in response to the jerking movement. He really didn't think now would be an appropriate time to tell Enjolras that he thought he was incredibly attractive so he slowly climbed to his feet. "I met her just this morning, in fact."

Enjolras regarded him with a suspicious gaze and stood much more elegantly than Grantaire had. He dusted off his pants like he had not just been shot at. Grantaire admired him for his serenity and wished his own hands would stop their quivering.

"Who are you?" He asked, looking steadily at Grantaire.

"I told you," Grantaire replied flippantly, curling his mouth around his cigarette. "I'm Grantaire."

" _What_ are you?" Enjolras needled, not seeing the flash of hurt that flickered through Grantaire's eyes. He started pacing, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm assuming that you believe yourself to be something of a medium, a man who can speak to the dead, yes?" He didn't give Grantaire a chance to respond to that, already starting to talk again by the time Grantaire opened his mouth. "You think you've spoken to my dead sister's spirit and she told you to come here and warn me. Since that is of course not possible you must be involved with the assassins." He looked up, his eyes sharp. "Are you a killer, Mr. Grantaire?"

"What?" Grantaire sputtered, coughing on smoke. "I just saved your life. Being a medium really isn't all that weird these days, and I mean maybe I should be more concerned with the fact that you almost got me killed. Maybe _you're_ the one working with the assassins and they were trying to kill _me_."

Enjolras blinked. "That's preposterous," he said with a frown. "I am not a murderer."

"Well neither am I," Grantaire said sullenly. They looked at each other for a long moment, then Grantaire wet his bottom lip and said slowly, "Should we check to make sure the assassin actually left?"

Enjolras carelessly waved a hand. "His gun was too loud," he explained. "The cops will be here any minute. If he was truly an assassin then he was hired, and hired guns are not willing to risk jail to complete a job. I'm confident he's gone."

Grantaire lifted an eyebrow and was about to ask what could it hurt to just make sure when his phone started ringing. He found it in a back pocket and pulled it out, sighed when he saw it was Jehan. He told Enjolras, "I gotta take this," and flipped it open.

Jehan was in the middle of a rant and sounded half-hysterical. "--and I just had this really bad feeling and we both know what those mean and Jesus Christ I just need to hear your voice and make sure you're okay and--" He stopped when he realized quite belatedly that the ringing had stopped and he could hear breathing. "Grantaire?" He asked quietly, his voice shaky. "Are you alright?"

Grantaire glanced at Enjolras, who was watching him with interest. The speakers on his cellphone were a little too loud and even if the blonde had been unable to actually understand Jehan, he definitely would've picked up on the worry in his voice.

"Yeah, Jehan, I'm fine," he said, turning away from Enjolras' prying stare. "Just had a little scare, is all."

"A little scare?" Jehan wheezed. "You should've seen the vision it was so dark and gruesome and I just knew something terrible had happened to you, something really bad and I was just so convinced that you wouldn't pick up at all and it would be because you were already dead and I was too late to help and--"

"Jehan," Grantaire interrupted softly. "Deep breaths. I'm alright."

He listened to Jehan breathe over the phone until he sounded normal again and less in risk of hyperventilating. Jehan was one of the strongest people Grantaire knew but he also deeply feared his own premonitions and they always caused him a great deal of anxiety. That was something Grantaire could understand very well; he knew that the first vision Jehan had experienced came when he was nine and warned him of his parents' upcoming deaths, which he would have tried to stop had he taken the dream seriously. He hadn't, and he'd become an orphan a month later. Now Jehan always feared he was too late when he got a vision and too many of them lately concerned Grantaire, whom he considered the only family he had left.

Jehan finally asked quietly, "Are you sure you're alright?" He sounded calmer now, his breathing even. Grantaire could picture him relaxing by inches, the tension in his shoulders bleeding away, the anxiety in his hands loosening his grip on the phone.

"I'm fine," he reiterated, smiling. "It was just an assassination attempt." He glanced at Enjolras. "I'm pretty sure they were trying to kill Enjolras anyway."

Jehan was quiet for a second. "Are you serious?" He asked, but he knew this wasn't something Grantaire would joke around about. "Clearly you were right to listen to Rosemary. I owe her an apology."

Grantaire laughed. He could hear sirens approaching now, the noise growing as the distance between them shrunk. "Listen, Jehan, the cops are gonna be here in a minute and I'm gonna have to help Enjolras deal with this mess. I'll call you as soon as we're done, okay?"

Jehan chuckled. "Alright," he said. "Now that I know you're okay I can go back to class."

"Tell the kids hi for me," Grantaire said and they both hung up the phone after exchanging goodbyes. He pocketed his phone and looked up to see Enjolras watching him intently, his expression thoughtful. "What?" He asked with a frown.

Enjolras smiled and asked, "What are we going to tell the police?"

Grantaire lifted an eyebrow and took a long drag from his cigarette. "The truth?" He said dubiously. Enjolras' smile only broadened.

"I was only asking," he said with a chuckle, "In case you slipped up and admitted you were a cog in an assassination machine."

"Christ, man," Grantaire said, shaking his head. "You're really stuck on that damn theory."

The police pulled up in front of Enjolras' house expecting to find a gunned man and approached the two of them accordingly, their guns drawn. "Put your hands up!" They barked. Both men complied immediately and laced their fingers atop their head when they were directed to do so.

It took them a few minutes to convince the cops that there really was an assassin and Grantaire was quite sure they wouldn't have believed them at all had a neighbour not wandered out of her house saying how glad she was to see the police because, "I've only seen assassins in movies and gosh, I had no idea what to do apart from calling 911!"

After that it goes a lot smoother. The cops call headquarters and request back-up and soon Enjolras' house is crawling with police, some investigating the patch of woods Grantaire said he thought the assassin had been hiding in, others interviewing them to try and get an idea of why someone would want to kill either.

Enjolras' neighbours were surprisingly helpful; they backed up both their statements, saying confidently that yes, there had been an armed man, and no of course it hadn't been a joke. There was a very real bullet hole in the patio, after all.

It took a few hours until they were satisfied with Grantaire, and told him he was allowed to go home. Enjolras would need to help out for a couple hours more, if only because this all happened at his house.

Still, Grantaire asked to speak to the blonde for a minute alone and the cops granted it. They wandered down the steps, leaving Grantaire and Enjolras alone in the veritable privacy of the patio.

"Are you alright to be alone tonight?" He asked with a frown. "Do you have someone to call?"

Enjolras sighed and looked generally unimpressed. "I've already called someone," he said. "They'll be here shortly."

Grantaire resisted the urge to ask if one of those someone's was Enjolras' boyfriend or girlfriend and instead managed to sound perfectly polite when he asked, "Are you sure? I could totally drag Jehan down here and we could crash on your couch or something. You know what they say about safety in numbers."

"Yes well if they weren't after you then I don't see why you would want to continue being involved." Enjolras folded his arms across his chest.

He really had Grantaire there. He frowned and scratched at his stubble and jumped when suddenly behind him Rosemary said, "You have to stay."

"Jesus, woman," Grantaire grumbled, turning to face her. Enjolras was staring at him and looking completely alarmed to see Grantaire speaking to no one. "Wear a goddamn bell or something."

She had the decency to blush. Now that Grantaire had seen her brother he could pick out their similarities; she was also strikingly beautiful and had even paler hair than Enjolras', the gold almost white at the temple. "You have to spend the night with him," she repeated.

Grantaire snorted. "He already said he doesn't want me to spend the night," he pointed out.

Enjolras cleared his throat. "Who are you talking to?" He asked. Grantaire heaved a great sigh.

"It's Rosemary. Has anyone ever told you that your sister is ridiculously stubborn?" He turned to face Enjolras who was looking at him with wide eyes. "She says I have to spend the night for some godforsaken reason and since she was really on top of it about the assassins I'm just gonna go ahead and call Jehan. He'll bring some pajamas down." He pulled out his phone and Enjolras grabbed his forearm, staying him from texting his roommate.

"You're hallucinating," he said, dead serious. "My sister is not here. I am not allowing a man with mental problems to spend the night in my house."

"Hey this 'man with mental problems' just totally saved your ass and--"

"Tell him you'd really like it if he wore the silk pajamas I bought him for his birthday two years ago. Tell him they match his eyes perfectly and turn his skin alabaster when he puts them on." Rosemary looked patiently at Grantaire, who scoffed.

"Fuck no," he said, waving a hand. "I am _not_ telling him that shit." Rosemary just kept staring at him, and Enjolras was staring at him again, and Grantaire sighed and gave in to the both of them. "Okay, okay, Rosemary says she wants you to wear the silk pajamas she got you two years ago? I guess they match your eyes and make your skin look... What was it? Alabaster?"

Enjolras colored. "How do you know that?" He hissed. Grantaire shrugged.

"Your sister wants me to spend the night," he said. "She's pretty damn determined that I actually do."

Enjolras looked at him for a long moment. He contemplated telling Grantaire to get off his porch but the man had saved his life, and when Combeferre and Courfeyrac got here they would outnumber Grantaire and his roommate. Enjolras didn't think he was a violent maniac, just a maniac.

"Fine," he said, and Grantaire looked up at him in surprise. "Tell your friend to bring your things." He walked down the steps back to the police and said tersely over his shoulder, "And I am not wearing those pajamas."

Grantaire leaned against the wall with a hearty sigh. "Do you realize how big of an asshole your brother can be?" He asked Rosemary. "And speaking of, thanks for the heads-up about the sniper. I don't like speaking ill of dead people but my god, woman, that was some bullshit."

Rosemary blushed and said, "I'm sorry. I was afraid you wouldn't help him if I told you."

"Yeah well you're probably right," he said, tapping ash off his cigarette. "I'm about a hundred percent sure I would've told you to screw off. Now I have to spend the night with a target for a reason you won't even say." He looked down to text Jehan, said, "Do you have anything else helpful to tell me, by the way? Like, don't drink the milk, it's poison?"

He glanced up when Rosemary didn't answer and realized the ghost had disappeared. "Fucking Christ," he grumbled, finishing his text and sending it. "I fucking hate ghosts."

**Author's Note:**

> oh my lovelies it has been so looooong  
> so I am back, officially off of hiatus, and here is a new chapter to prove it!
> 
> this was requested by musingsofamoron, two anons, austrus and kingofherrings. honestly I had a lot of fun updating this, I'd let it sit for way too long
> 
> the title comes from this quote: "The ghosts you chase you never catch" - John Malkovich
> 
> tumblr is idfaciendumest, feel free to drop by and ask me something or request updates or whatnot, I love all y'all! :D


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